


under the stands

by SinSmith



Series: flesh of the servant [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Positive, Bottom Sirius Black, Established Relationship, Fat Character, Gay Sex, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders are all fucking, Men Crying, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, PWP without Porn, Peter is fat. Sirius is about it., Peter is mean and jealous and shitty., Pretty mild frankly as far as my fics go., Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Situational Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinSmith/pseuds/SinSmith
Summary: "Sirius Black was easy. It was a fact widely known around Hogwarts.The Marauders had all had a go, at some point or another. It wasn’t a secret, not really, but they didn’t ever talk about it in grand detail. Things with Sirius and Remus were a little too intimate; things with James weren’t intimate enough. Peter was the only one who ever brought it up, mousey little Peter Pettigrew, because he was the only one who wanted to stick his fingers into places they didn’t belong and pry you open like that."Peter calls Sirius a slut under the stands during a Quidditch game. He's not wrong, but it's rude to say it like that.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black/Peter Pettigrew
Series: flesh of the servant [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958134
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Peter Pettigrew Smutfest





	under the stands

Sirius Black was easy. 

It was a fact widely known around Hogwarts. 

It was the (primary, though surely there were others) reason why Marlene McKinnon had turned down dating him three times even though they’d been sleeping together for years. 

If you weren’t bad-looking, were confident enough or just got lucky, you could coax him behind the stands at a Quidditch match. Witch, wizard, didn’t matter. For him, it was a kind of rebellion- the kind that made Regulus twist his face up and get all prim, the kind that made his mother send him Howlers, and the kind that felt delicious every step of the way. 

The Marauders had all had a go, at some point or another. It wasn’t a secret, not really, but they didn’t ever talk about it in grand detail. Things with Sirius and Remus were a little too intimate; things with James weren’t intimate enough. Peter was the only one who ever brought it up, mousey little Peter Pettigrew, because he was the only one who wanted to stick his fingers into places they didn’t belong and pry you open like that. 

“Does he do you like this? Remus?” A groan in his ear, the boy behind him dragging his hand down Sirius’ tattooed throat. 

“Why’s it matter what Remus does?” Peter was so much shorter than him, but had him pinned up against the wooden scaffolding beneath the stands; a Quidditch game roaring on the other side of the red and gold sheeting. 

“Cause I want to know. Maybe I want to think about it while I fuck you. Maybe we should call him down here, you could choke on his prick while I-” 

“Merlin, fuck, Pete-” Sirius turned around on him suddenly, black hair hitting Peter in the face and shoving him firmly; watching the other boy stumble back a few feet. When Peter lifted his gaze, though, his freckled face was stuck in a somewhat smug expression; blue eyes too bright, that tuck of a smirk in his dimpled cheek. 

“Oi. What is that for?” Sirius finally asked, standing at his full height; his uniform shirt was hanging open, leather jacket shoved down around his elbows, chest heaving and cock half hard. The other Gryffindor boy just stood up, dusting himself off and shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“Know you get turned on just thinking about it- it's not like we haven’t all had a go.” Sirius felt himself squirm; pinned under Peter’s gaze. Normally he was so brash about it, but nobody had said it- said it like that. The ratty boy gestured broadly, leaning back against a wooden post. 

“Town broomstick, everybody gets a ride.” 

“Want to fucking say that again?” His eyes were black and he could feel his blood boiling, fingers curled into white-knuckled fists at his side. Peter looked infuriatingly nonchalant about it. 

“Come off it, Padfoot. It's not like you’re surprised; it's been going around school for years. Girls dorm had a board a few weeks ago where they wrote out everyone you’ve shagged and-” He paused to whistle, pointedly examining his chewed short nails. So indifferent, but Sirius felt like he’d been slapped. 

“That’s not true, Marlene-”

“Marlene what? Doesn’t think you’re easy? Why do you think she refused to go to Yule with you….?” 

“What the fuck, Pete.” 

“Why would she when she knows you’re going to-”

“I wouldn’t! Not if we were- I wouldn’t cheat on her. I wouldn’t cheat on someone.” Peter just raised his eyebrow a hair, and Sirius bristled. “I wouldn’t! I would never.” 

“Well, it's not me you have to prove it to. I know you’ve got your heart set…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. Marlene knows it's not on her, she’s not blind.” 

“Fuck you, you miserable little shit.” 

“You’re the one who dragged me down here. Or do you not want a shag?” Peter loved it, lived for it- that moment when Sirius Black, beautiful brash and impetuous, had to stand with his mouth gaping; fire burning behind proud, flawless grey eyes, chiseled jaw, lustrous black hair- and just look at him. When Sirius had to wrestle with, decide, that he wanted Peter to fuck him again, like he had dozens of times before. Disheveled and messy and needy. 

It felt good. It felt like… power. So he feigned nonchalance, pretended he hadn’t wounded Sirius on purpose just to get them there. 

He felt hands on his shoulders, dragged in against Sirius; the other boy caught his mouth in a desperate, rough kiss. Sloppy, frankly- but it’d be a cold day in hell when Peter didn’t kiss him back, didn’t ache to touch him; trace every line of his body. But right now they didn’t have time for all that. He wrapped his arms around Sirius, leaning up to meet his mouth and suck at his full bottom lip. 

Body against body, Peter was firm against him; warm red sweater over his uniform, sunlight dappling through the golden curtains. It painted his blonde hair even brighter, light catching on the messy honey curls. He was familiar; they’d memorized each other for years, and Sirius’s hands grabbed at his arms, feeling the dimpled softness of his skin under his sweater, the hard on against his thigh.

A roar went through the crowd, and Sirius glanced up, spreading his thighs around Peter’s thick knee. “Another score for Hufflepuff- they’ve only got a few more before it's a Chaser’s game…” 

“Better be quick about it, then. Go on.” 

Sirius flushed, actually flushed; grey eyes blown wide. 

“It’s the fun of it, isn’t it? Game might end and everyone might hear you moaning my name. Or some beater might crash through the tarp and the whole school would see…” Peter spoke into the crook of his neck, palming the taller boy’s cock through his fitted jeans; hard. He knew he wasn’t wrong by the way Sirius whimpered, licked his kiss-red lips, and went to shove off his leather jacket. 

“No. Leave it on. Show me where you want me to fuck you.” 

It wasn’t fair that ratty little Peter Pettigrew could get in his head like that. Sure, they were mates, but it was like Peter was the only one who saw him; the nasty, filthy, fucked up parts of him. Because he was filthy. He didn’t know what it was about the shy, unimposing Gryffindor that made him stop in his tracks, unhooking his jeans instead despite the crawling feeling down his spine. Somewhere between taboo and fear and arousal- a heady mixture of all three. Getting used like he was just- just something to fuck. 

Had to be something in his eyes; the too-clever, demanding look he got like they were laughing at some secret joke. Didn’t want to, couldn’t, disappoint Peter- wasn’t like James, who was a lovesick shite or Remus who was perfect and so far above him disappointing him was inevitable. 

Peter’s command still lingering in the air, he moved to one of the long, low beams. He could feel the boy’s eyes on him like physical touch and, well, why not give him a show, right? A thick swallow as he zipped down his jeans, sliding them down his bare hips. 

“Right there? Bend over, then.” Just like that, in broad daylight, their classmates mere feet away. There was a challenge there, Peter looking at him; goading him on to new shameless heights. Since he was supposed to be the shameless one, the brash one- nothing he wouldn’t do for a thrill. Which meant bending over the beam, looking over his shoulder; licking his full lips sinfully before shoving his jeans down around his thighs. Ass-out, thighs spread, ready for whatever Peter would give him. 

It might have made them both laugh, in another circumstance. As it was, Peter chuckled and stood up straight. “That desperate for it, huh? Well alright then.” 

“You poof. Get over here.” 

“You ready?” Peter teased and Sirius rolled his eyes; he never wanted to prep him, took some sick pleasure in making Sirius do it himself. He felt his skin burning, cock aching, hearing his classmates laughing and chattering above; the rush of broomsticks. One mistake and everyone would see him like this, know what a goddamn slut he was; he drew his wand. It was a simple enough spell to lube himself up; shuddering at the slick, tingling sensation. 

“Can’t get it up or something, Pete? Going to feel very put out if I did all this for nothing-” 

“Oh, shut it.” He felt Peter’s hands grab his hips, felt him undo his fly, felt his cock against the curve of his ass. He didn’t need to see it to picture it; thick, a little short, curved just right. Didn’t have to imagine for long. “You keep being a brat and next time I’ll make you take it dry.” 

“Ah-” A knee forced Sirius’ thighs apart, the wood biting into his hips; he bent forward over it, practically dangling as that hard cock breached him without warning. A ragged cry punched through his teeth, vision going white as he stretched; feeling slick forced out of him by the sudden intrusion. Peter didn’t stop, forcing his way in inch by excruciating inch, until he was buried inside Sirius. 

It felt damned good; painful in a way he knew would ache long after they were done. Peter didn’t have to try any more to fuck him just right; gripping a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back as he thrust into his tight ass. The drag and pull was rough, too fast and pounding; he had to strain to keep arched the way the other boy wanted him, fingers braced into the rough wood. Fully clothed, the both of them, it felt dirty; nothing romantic about it. 

“There you go. Dirty bitch. Like that, filled up? I can feel you fucking dripping for it.” Peter growled into his ear, as if he could hear his thoughts. He wasn’t particularly strong, but he had a demanding, greedy nature to the way he touched Sirius. The way he grabbed a heavy fistful of the leather jacket, yanking it back so that Sirius’ arms couldn’t hold him up and he had to just dangle there- supported by Peter and the wooden beam against his hipbones; bruising each time Peter fucked into him. It was the only time Peter was confident about anything, and he was demanding and mean which was exactly what he wanted. What he deserved.

It hurt; it was fast, and dirty, and rough. Enough force to make him bounce each time Peter plowed into him; his black hair falling into his face, expression contorted with pain and desperation. He was burning, aching; the crowd roared again overhead, he could hear footsteps just on the other side of the tarp, and he could picture classmates sneaking back to snog and finding them. 

How they must have looked; Pettigrew all pink and greedy, freckles standing out and his blue eyes burning a line in Sirius’ back. They wouldn’t see him right away, not around Peter’s thick build, but they’d hear him; hear him moan each time Peter’s cock thrust home, hear the keen-whimper-groan as Peter forced his legs together. They would hear Peter cursing, see Sirius’ black jeans in a pile around his ankles, restrained with his own damned leather jacket. 

“Better this way, isn’t it? Gotta get you nice and tight for me. Maybe we’ll pass you around the locker room after, huh? Let the Hufflepuff team have a go, since they played so well and trounced Slytherin so soundly-” The boy over him was rambling but god if it didn’t make him clench in earnest, burning in desire; the image of Peter tugging his hair, forcing his head down on each cock and pretty cunt in turn- holding him there until he couldn’t breathe and- 

He was so hard it hurt; so tight around Peter’s cock, and he was thrusting into him over and over, the slap of skin against skin mingling with their moans and the chatter of the stadium. Sirius was certain attentive students would be able to hear them; he was groaning so loud, a deep chested growl he couldn’t contain or control, completely helpless to do anything but take Peter deep inside him, getting fucked open and used. He loved it, lived for it- Peter wasn’t wrong. Peter was never wrong. 

“Fuck, Peter-” He cursed, brows drawn up and biting his bottom lip; straining against his arms shoved back, line of tattoos down the strip of bare chest slick with sweat. He felt his eyes water, pleasure and pain overwhelming. Every inch of him was too hot, aching- then Peter shifted and his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside him. “Right there, right there-” 

“Tell me you want it.” 

“Don’t stop. Fuck me. That’s it, right there- you feel so good, come on, give it to me-” 

“You live for this, don’t you? Tell me you’re a slut.” Peter was bent over him, he could feel the plush of his body; skin against skin where the heavy-set boy’s shirt had ridden up, feel Peter’s mouth against his bare shoulder as he yanked Sirius back by his hair. “Tell me.”

“Fuck-” He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to- but it was so good, burning and building and driving and- then Peter stopped, slowing down, and he didn’t- needed more so he- “I’m a slut, I’m a slut. I’m your slut. Whatever you want. Fuck me, Peter.” Slurred in his beautiful, crisp uppercrust accent; it was delicious. Watching his pretty grey eyes in pain, in desperation, his mouth parted, the sharp line of his addams apple bobbing as he whimpered. 

His eyes were sparkling- wet with unspilled tears. And it was the most beautiful thing Peter had ever seen. He wanted to live there; perfectly in control of Sirius Black. 

But nothing can last forever. 

“I’ll leave you well used. Want that? I’ll fill you up Padfoot.” 

“Yes- yes. I’m so close, so fucking close- shit!” Clenched tight around Peter’s cock, whimpering desperately, he released without so much as a hand around his cock; his teeth clenched as his vision went white. Too hot, dizzy; it was only Peter’s hands on him that kept him from tumbling to the ground, couldn’t breathe right in the heat. Hot spend spattered over the gravel and woodwork in thick pulses; then he was being pulled up and he tried his best to stand up as Peter thrust into him rough. Erratic thrusts, desperate and messy; then Peter was coming too, with his gorgeous stuttering moans- cum pulsing into him, hot and thick and perfect; dripping down around Pete’s cock as he took him a few last times. 

Then it was Sirius’ favorite part; the moment when Wormtail’s hands got all reverent; he released his hair, released his jacket, and wrapped his arms around him. Just lingering inside him for a moment, pressing his nose into the back of Sirius’ neck. The taller boy was grateful for it- he wasn’t certain he was capable of standing alone. 

Heavy, panting breathing from both of them. Then the freckled, shyer of the pair pulled his cock free, watching for just a moment with sick fascination as spend dripped from Sirius’ abused hole and down his thigh. “Mm. Good boy.” He teased, tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up. 

Black just dropped his jacket, freeing his arms finally; they hurt, no thanks to Peter, and yanking up his jeans over skinny hips with a hop. He didn’t care that they got spunk on them- nothing a scouring charm wouldn’t fix. 

His back slumped against a nearby post and he let himself slide down to the ground, watching with a floating, distant feeling as Peter smoothed his clothes, smoothed his pretty blonde curls, straightened his sweater over his thick, chubby body. Peter rarely let Sirius touch him, especially not in public like this. But sometimes… when he begged… 

“See you back in the dorm?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sirius answered as Peter muttered a scouring charm on himself. 

“.... ey Pete. Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“.... about Marlene. And, uh, Moony.” 

“...” Peter hid the hurt with his back to Sirius, even as delicious as he looked; debauched and fucked out of his mind and piled on the ground ‘cause he couldn’t walk- even so, he still asked about Remus. “... of course.” He didn’t bother asking for clarification; if Sirius believed Marlene and Remus didn’t want to be with him because he was easy, so be it. If it hurt him, so be it. 

Peter left him there in a pile, ducking out from under the tarp without looking back. 

If he’d known how much trouble it was going to lead to, and the pact Sirius was writing in his head in that very moment, he might have answered differently.

**Author's Note:**

> The next fic in this series is a sequel.
> 
> When Sirius has been celibate for... a while and things get messy. 
> 
> Also this series will have at least a few more entries before I'm done because I'm so sick of Peter Pettigrew, the horrible little rat man, being excluded from the fandom.


End file.
